


So Now You Know

by StarAfterDeath



Series: Devil Nights [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Asexuality, Awkward Sexual Situations, Demisexuality, Fantasy, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Repressed attraction, Self-Denial, Sexual Tension, Vampires, Vampirism, alternative universe, concealed romantic feelings, depictions of blood and mild mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarAfterDeath/pseuds/StarAfterDeath
Summary: This is another fanfic that I wrote for my Vampire Batman AU. If you're into things like boring, long-winded depictions of blood drinking and sexualization of vampirism, you'll feel right at home.
Relationships: Batman/Riddler, Edward Nygma/Bruce Wayne, Riddlebat
Series: Devil Nights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873591
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	So Now You Know

**Author's Note:**

> More like a quick side-note: I headcannon Nygma as left-handed.

He hooked one of the suspender straps with his thumb, slowly lowering it.

\- We need to think of a better way to do this.

The second strap joined its twin, both of them now dangling nonchalantly on the sides of his dark green trousers. Hesitant fingers started unbuttoning the snow-white shirt, leisurely working their way from the collar all the way down to the bottom hem.

\- Honestly, I still don’t know why I’m letting you do this. Brings me nothing but trouble and hospital bills.

A black-clad figure on the opposite side of the room observed him silently, its breath steadily getting heavier with each buttonhole vacated.

\- Step it up. I don’t have all night, - It finally growled.

The undressing man pierced the creature with a spiteful glance.

\- Excuse me? Do you know how many of my shirts have already been ruined by your insatiable lust for blood? Do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to remove blood stains from white fabric? People at the dry cleaner’s are already giving me weird looks; they probably think I’m on a homicidal spree or something. Do you think I need Gordon and his underpaid idiots on my back because somebody got the wrong idea? No, no, no, since I have to endure you plunging your outrageously overgrown fangs into my - very much unwilling, mind you!- flesh, the least you can do is to allow me to preserve whatever measly remains of my wardrobe I happen to be wearing at the time of our… sessions.

He carefully slipped out of his shirt and lovingly hanged it over the back of a nearby chair where his dark green suit jacket was already resting.

\- I’ll write you a check for every piece of clothing I ruin. Now stow it and give me what I came here for.

Before the now-half-dressed man could protest (or retort in any way for that matter), the figure closed the distance between them, coming into the faint light of computer monitors and a small desk lamp. Finally, it resembled a man rather than a supernatural entity of undefined shape. The curves of his sable black armored body were visible enough in the greenish-yellow glow of the room, which was rather intimidating, given the present context. The now-half-naked man backed down a little but his retreat was cut short by the desk behind him. The man in black armor loomed over him for a second or two before bringing his gloved hand up to the side of the other one’s face and gently tilted it to the right, exposing the neck. A fading bruise above the carotid was barely visible there in the dim lighting of the room, but the black figure’s elevated eyesight still made out traces of blue and red around two little symmetrically perfect maroon holes on the other’s pale skin. The dark tall one leaned closer and inhaled. The shorter, paler one swallowed nervously, preparing for the upcoming pain. To his guest, the smell of crusted blood seemed to be as intoxicating as the scent of the most exquisite perfume, making for a perfect prelude to the messy feast ahead. The figure’s lips parted, revealing the unnaturally elongated canines.

\- Batman, wait! - the shorter man tensed, attempting to overcome a tremor that crept into his posture the moment he sensed the bite approaching.

\- What is it now, Nygma? - the taller one asked, voice full of impatience and barely concealed irritation. - The sooner you stop fidgeting, the faster we’ll be done with this.

These words snaked over his companion’s ear, ice-cold breath causing him to tremble even more. The man licked his lips hastily and continued:

\- Could you… look at me for a second?

Batman obeyed, uncharacteristically so. Whatever the color these eyes were behind the slits of his visor, they were now staring directly into Edward Nygma’s own neon greens.

\- What? - the same impatient tone.

Edward took a deep breath, holding the Bat’s gaze, and inched closer to the taller man so that his exposed chest was touching the sleek kevlar surface of Batman’s breastplate. He wrapped his arms around the black torso, tracing his palms up Batman’s spine until they rested on his broad shoulder blades under the cape.

\- Help me up, - he nodded to the desk behind him.

Batman looked at him quizzically. Edward rolled his eyes and attempted an explanation:

\- This desk will give me at least a bit of support. You wouldn’t know, of course, but it’s really hard to stand still for a long period of time while you’re being sucked out dry by a noticeably taller fellow with monster-like strength and an iron grip. Last time you held me, I thought my humerals would disintegrate under the sheer pressure of your gargantuan paws.

Batman’s gaze was hard to read. His cowl effectively concealed every little condescending detail of his current “Are you kidding me?”-expression, so he was forced to verbalize it.

\- Are you kidding me? You can’t just jump on the desk yourself? Why the assistance?

Nygma’s eyes darted to the side and back to his interlocutor’s face.

\- Because I don’t want it to look like an invitation. I mean, I don’t want to encourage you in any way… No, I… I-I mean…

\- Forget it. I don’t have time for this.

In a matter of seconds (and following a frustrated growl), Edward’s body was lifted and seated on top of his own work desk. In the next few seconds, the dark figure was already forcing its bloodthirsty fangs into the symmetrically perfect maroon holes on Edward’s neck.

“Consistent, aren’t we? Wouldn’t make more bite marks but rather utilize the ones that are already there,” - the green-eyed prey thought to himself. This almost made him smile. If he was a vampire, he’d definitely do the same. It felt like the right thing to do. Sadly, no idle thoughts could hold back the pain that he knew was coming. He was waiting for it. He was ready. This time around, something was off, though. In fact, it seemed an awful lot like there was no pain at all.

The blood was flowing mercilessly down Edward’s collarbone, down his back and chest, but the excruciating sensation, that usually started somewhere around his throat and rapidly spilled into the other regions of his body, didn’t approach. The pointy white tooth tips advanced deeper; more blood was drawn, yet agony still failed to manifest itself.

Another weird thing that sent off alarm signals in Edward’s mind was, incidentally, his own reaction to the gruesome process. He took a mental note of his unusually prominent shortage of breath and uncharacteristically high level of perspiration. These things, however, were less worrisome than, say, his newly discovered tendency to cling to Batman’s back in what looked like a desperate attempt to bring their bodies closer together. His fingertips were seeking to dig their nails into the stone-cold armor. Deep in the pool of his consciousness, a chastising voice brought forth a frightening revelation:

“You sick little worm. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Was he? Edward swallowed a moan, budding at the back of his throat. Yup, he definitely was.

“No, no, NO!” the voice continued, “It can’t be happening! This is… this is wrong, all of it! And I can’t even begin to list the reasons why.”

\- D… Detective, I… I feel strange. Something’s wrong this time, - Edward managed under the hitched breath.

For a brief moment, his torturer’s fangs, tongue, and lips left the spot they were working on.

\- Do you want me to stop?

The room swam before the shorter man’s eyes, so he squeezed them shut to ward off a possible headache. Panting heavily, he exhaled a languid answer:

\- Yes… And no.

He could have sworn the Bat smirked against his ravaged skin.

\- Then it’s working.

The accursed canines penetrated his neck again.

“Ohmygod, what is wrong with you?” the same chastising voice piped up with a new portion of mental flagellation. “The bat-bastard definitely planned this. You’re falling into a very embarrassing trap right now, Eddie. Snap out of it!”

His brain would be glad to comply if his body wasn’t that stubborn. Right now, for example, the way he wrapped his legs around the taller man’s thighs, pulling him closer to his own shivering frame, was a textbook example of how _not_ to show someone that you want absolutely no part in what’s going on. His left hand was tenderly stroking the back of the cowled head in silent encouragement while his left hand roamed under the cape, frantically studying the contours of the other man’s kevlar-garbed back. He felt his mind slip away. Something else was pushing out all logic and reason he was always so proud to hold onto, no matter the situation. It made him feel hot and cold at the same time; it made him hate the Bat with a burning passion but also made him want to thank him, hold him, plead with him to continue until the last drop of blood leaves his exhausted body. He tried to find a suitable name for the sensation while his heartbeat raced and tears welled up behind his lowered eyelids. He dreaded the words that sprang to mind because they’d always seemed so alien to him, so unworthy of his clearly superior sensibilities.

”Want.”

“Desire.”

“Endearment.”

“Disgusting,” - he thought to himself, - “And yet…”

All this time, Batman’s hands had been resting on both sides of Edward’s overexposed body, slightly below his ribs. Somehow, he was overtly aware of them now. Dazedly, he placed his own palms over them, rubbing the gloved knuckles and gripping the backs of those hands in a possessive gesture that he couldn’t (or rather wouldn’t want to) explain.

“Don’t you blurt it out, you perverted feeble-minded dweeb!” - the chastising voice warned, - “Don’t you freaking dare…”

\- _Harder_ , Detective.

“For crying out loud.”

He never expected his own, real voice to sound like that, drenched in morbid longing, dripping with unadulterated lust. He knew he should have shut up right then, stopped discrediting himself, left it on this one shameful request that he hoped hadn’t been noticed, but, sadly, he continued.

\- You’re being… too gentle… That’s not… how I like you, you know that, - he managed between labored breaths.

Contrary to what his body wanted (and his mind struggled to process), however, he felt the bite soften. The Dark Knight was about to be finished, it seemed. As the Bat’s mouth finally distanced itself from its feeding spot, a swarm of frantic, hungry thoughts invaded Edward’s mind. They fought for dominance with the scanty leftovers of his rationality and gained a stunning victory, overtaking the bleeding man’s reasoning and following actions.

“He’s moving away. No. Don’t let him. Want more. Need more. Need his attention. Him. _Always Him_. Only him.”

Edward grabbed the vampire’s upper-arms as tight as his strength allowed him and practically slammed his mouth into Batman’s, kissing him fiercely, smearing traces of his own blood over their lips. There was a certain sloppiness in his movements - something Batman wouldn’t expect from normally methodical and calculating Riddler. The chaotic physical enthusiasm oozing from the shorter man was new and relatively uncanny; a semi-demonic possession bending his prey’s mind to its will.

Batman was motionless. He neither reciprocated nor pulled away. He simply waited for the other man to regain his senses, realize what he was doing and recoil in disgust. It didn’t happen until he buried his own fingers in the other male’s auburn hair, gently tugging at it in an attention-calling manner. This was when the familiar nervousness returned to Edward’s movements as he suddenly pushed the armored body away from himself, panting heavily, panic frozen in the slightly widened pupils. Batman watched him wipe his lower lip with the back of his hand, staining it with leftover blood, never breaking the eye contact. The panic in his stare turned into rage.

\- You vile, cheating… What have you done to me? - he hissed.

\- Nothing to hurt or degrade you in any way, - a calm and firm retort.

\- As if! Was that one of your vampire things? Did you lace your saliva with some atrocious aphrodisiac?

\- All I did was a bit of research, and, well, you’re not exactly wrong.

\- About saliva?

\- About one of my “vampire things.”

\- So you _have_ done something to prompt this… this-this filthy, inexcusable reaction in me? - Edward barely contained the feeling of disgust as he stuttered through his angry outbursts. Pangs of newly forming self-hatred made themselves known as he struggled to steer his mind clear of the images and sensations from moments ago still way too vividly alive in his memory. As if tasked with taming a feral cat, Batman attempted to placate him by offering more words of explanation.

\- Listen, Nygma, I’m not a monster. I may look like one, but I still have enough humanity left in me to sympathize with the position you’re in. None of this is your fault and-

\- Cut to the chase, Detective. What. Have. You. Done?

\- …Well, in simple terms… There is a way for a vampire to manipulate their prey’s pain sense modality if they wish to. When done correctly, this technique is capable of suppressing any painful sensations during the feeding; the prey feels absolutely nothing.

\- _That_ hardly felt like ‘nothing,’ Detective.

\- But it didn’t hurt, now, did it?

\- No, I admit, it didn’t, but… The nerve! You… you’re trying to tell me you _hypnotized_ me into _feeling aroused_?

\- I said it suppressed pain. Nothing more, nothing less.

\- Then how do you explain what’s just happened?

\- It’s not my place to explain, _Edward_.

Ah, there it is, he was finally being given the first name basis treatment. The Bat would always resort to this method when he wanted to ensure that whatever he was about to say would be heard for sure. Using Edward’s first name (in Edward’s personal opinion) was a dirty and cowardly stunt, a piece of cheap psychological manipulation designed to trick him into lowering his mental defenses before whatever delusion Batman was going to instill in him. Edward hated it because it usually worked.

\- I did what I usually do. My intentions were quite basic: drop by your hideout, feed, go away. The only thing I tempered with was your natural ability to feel pain. The rest your mind did for you.

At that, Edward fell silent. The abominable taste of blood still lingered in his mouth as he looked for a reasonable thing to say to break the unnerving silence with. It was no use.

The Bat sighed. He knew where this was going because, right before the Riddler pulled him into the kiss, he saw something in those misty green eyes that sent an all-too-familiar shiver down his spine. The Joker had the same glint in his pale orbs as well when he looked at him and spoke feverishly of love, and death, and their never-ending dance together. He found it hard to believe that the Riddler, who always spoke coldly of such things as affection, personal attachment, or - god forbid - physical intimacy, would show the very same emotion when his guard was down and his mind was clouded by a pain-blocking spell.

He knew where this was going. Nevertheless, the Dark Knight followed the crooked path.

\- Edward, look... you said it yourself today - we needed a better way to do this. Putting you through a lot of pain when I feed has been taking a toll on my conscience, believe it or not. I wanted to change that. I wanted to help you deal with the whole feeding experience better. To tell you the truth, I was a bit startled when you kissed me but I can’t say I was _surprised_. If you never want to talk about this episode again - fair enough. Nobody mentions this, nobody acts like it has ever happened. I assure you, I will not think any different of you after this.

\- Of course you won't. But I will.

Edward looked at the Dark Knight, then at his blood-smudged hand, then at a medical kit to his right, placed preemptively by him earlier this evening after he sensed he might have an unexpected and very hungry guest. He always sensed when Batman was nearby; one of many annoying sensory additions to his bothersome prey status. Absent-mindedly, he reached for the kit, jumped down from the desk, and went looking for the nearest mirror. He found one in the adjacent bathroom. Seemingly ignoring the otherwordly presence in the bat suit in the other room, he began cleaning the freshly tethered bite marks on his long-suffering neck. The Bat took it as a hint. Black cloudy substance swelled at the bottom of his feet as he prepared to teleport himself the hell out of the Riddler’s hideout. Suddenly, he heard the other man address him again.

\- One more thing before you go, Detective.

The substance seized its enveloping spread. When no other words followed, the Dark Knight turned his head in the direction of the bathroom only to be met with a hearty punch in the jaw.

\- Next time you want to test your dark vampire voodoo on me, tell me in advance, alright? I don't take it well when people - or other creatures - keep me guessing. Supposed to be my job, you know.

Batman clutched his jaw in a dumbfounded fashion, silently studying the man before him. He was rubbing the knuckles of his right hand. Streaks of now dried blood were still descending from the wound on his neck, over his shoulder, almost reaching the waistband of his trousers. This way, in the green artificial glimmer of the room, he looked positively mesmerizing. Batman wondered how this sneaky motherfucker even managed to creep up on him without a single sound.

\- Duly noted.

The black mist began to form around the vampire again. At that moment, he was still stroking his chin soothingly to calm the dull aching, courtesy of Edward Nygma’s fist.

\- Hey. Not bad for a southpaw.


End file.
